


You can't put roots there

by estei



Series: Singing songs for lost boys [2]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 13:22:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9899018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estei/pseuds/estei
Summary: Yancy just really needs a hug.





	

Something was wrong. 

It wasn’t so unusual, the hallway being empty at this time of night, but the stillness almost seemed to echo, and the air was a few degrees too cold. The wrongness of it settled deep in Yancy’s gut, and he shuddered. He wanted to go back to his room, crawl under the covers and wait until the world was right again, but he had to go somewhere… where? Why was he in the hallway? 

Something tingled at the back of his neck, and he turned, “Who’s there,” on his lips, but before he could get the words out the kaiju alarm started blaring, the red lights in the corners blinking, casting long, eerie shadows on the walls. 

“No,” Yancy whispered, “No,” louder now. “This isn’t right.” 

The kaiju were gone, weren’t they? Hadn’t they… hadn’t Raleigh…

_Raleigh._

Recognition slammed into Yancy. Raleigh, he’d been trying to find Raleigh. Where was he? He started running, and somehow he knew that Raleigh wouldn’t be in his bunk, and his feet brought him to the room next to Herc’s, the kid’s room, they’d called it, and he cranked open the door, so sure he would find a small boy on the other side-

But there was no one. Just a dark room in disarray, moldy blankets on the floor, and toys piled in the corner, touched by spider webs that dripped down from the ceiling. It had the feel of a long forgotten tomb, and Yancy recoiled, stumbled back and almost fell. 

“No, no,” he murmured. Raleigh was here, he had to be, Yancy just had to find him, keep him safe. The alarm was still blaring, but then there was another sound, almost indiscernible over the racket, a voice, high and piping and so scared. 

“Yancy! Help me!” 

“Raleigh!” Yancy started running again, but the hallway just kept getting longer, it didn’t make any sense, the blast doors should have been right there… “Raleigh, where are you?” He started throwing open doors, but each room was the same, foul with still air and empty save for the cobwebs.

“Yancy, please!” Raleigh was crying now, voice fading in and out and Yancy wanted to claw at the walls, wanted to scream. 

“Raleigh,” he called, swinging around, trying to change direction, but his feet got tangled under him and-

BANG. 

Pain erupted in his shoulder as he hit the ground, and Yancy panted and damn near whimpered as he tried to find his legs, but somehow he was trapped, something was tangled around him, tight and-

Blankets. His blankets were still twisted around his waist, his legs still half in bed even as his shoulders were braced against the floor. He’d been dreaming, dreaming, it was just a dream, there was no alarm, no one was crying, no one but him, anyway. 

Sucking in air like he’d just run a marathon, Yancy let awareness wash over him. He was in his room, in the Shatterdome, it was half past one, two hours since he’d folded at the card table, leaving Tendo and Mako to their stare down. 

Fuck. He kicked his way free of the covers, and sat on the edge of his bed, counting his breaths, trying to slow his heartbeat with the tricks he’d learned in years of counseling, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, he needed to make sure… 

As he’d expected, hoped, Raleigh was still awake. He was sitting up against the headboard, legs stretched out as turned a page in his book, mug of tea still steaming on the bedside table. 

“I’m just curious, you do know how to knock, right? It is a concept you’ve heard of?” Raleigh asked mildly, without bothering to look up, and Yancy felt the last of his tension drain away, like a stopper pulled in a tub, and sagged against the doorframe. 

“I already know you have the habits of an old grandma,” Yancy said, and was surprised by the sound of his own voice, thin and hoarse. It caught Raleigh’s attention, of course it did, and he found himself pinned with a sharp, assessing gaze. He let his shoulders droop, _don’t ask, please,_ he thought, pushing the words to the forefront as though Raleigh might see them across his brow. 

But then, he probably did. Raleigh knew his every expression just as surely as Yancy knew his, and after a moment of internal debate, Raleigh glanced back down at his book. 

“And what if I’m entertaining a gentleman caller?” he asked, mouth quirking with just a hint of a grin. 

“Is that what we’re calling Chuck these days?” Yancy retorted, and he burst into laughter when Raleigh fumbled his mug of tea, a blush creeping up into his cheeks. The amusement, the reminder that he could still tease his brother, shook something loose in his chest and he took his first deep breath since he’d woken. “I have eyes, you know,” Yancy teased, even as he stumbled almost drunkenly across the room to collapse in Raleigh’s bed, flopping around until he was curled up facing the wall with his back against Raleigh’s hip. He tilted his head back just a little, so he could see the mutinous expression on that scruffy face. 

“Big mouth, too,” Raleigh grumbled, elbowing him sharply between the shoulder blades. Yancy laughed again, but he could feel his energy slipping away, exhausting and the last remnants of fear pressing down on him. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Raleigh peered down at him, and Yancy just yanked one of the pillows from behind his back and put it over his own head. 

“Mrmph,” Yancy said, snuggling down under the blankets and letting the warmth seep in. 

“I take it you’re sleeping here,” Raleigh said, and there was a hint of teasing lilt to his voice, but also concern, and Yancy let it fill him up, let it chase away the last of the darkness. He didn’t bother answering, not that Raleigh expected him to, and after a few moments he heard the sound of a page turning again, the clink of a tea cup against the table, and then… he fell asleep.


End file.
